


In Your Dreams

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Community: onlyonebed, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sleeping arrangements aren't ideal, but Rose and Ten are determined to make the best of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> For onlyonebed prompt 37 ('Telepathy and/or dream sharing')

"I'm afraid we didn't have a lot of space available," the head stewardess said, leading the Doctor and Rose along a sumptuously-carpeted corridor. "If it wasn't for a last-minute cancellation you'd have had to make do with camp beds in the reprocessing annex." She glanced at Rose. "Or maybe one of you could have slept in a lifepod — but that'd be even more cramped. I don't think the Doctor would have had enough room to lie down." 

She stopped at a door and pressed a small black disc to its lock. The door slid open, revealing a compact cabin whose most prominent item of furniture was a double bed. Stars shone through a porthole on the far wall. 

"Will that be all right?" she added, turning back to the Doctor and Rose. 

"It'll be fine," Rose said firmly. 

"Well..." The Doctor stuck his head through the door and looked around. "Yes, I reckon Rose and I can work something out. Thanks, Janet. You're brilliant." 

With what might have been a slight blush, the stewardess handed over the disc — which Rose took to be the key of their room — and hurried away. 

"So what do you think, Rose?" the Doctor asked. "I suppose if you took the bed first, and get a few hours of sleep, then when I felt tired we could swap over. Or maybe if we put a couple of pillows between us that would do." Still talking, he drifted over to the wardrobe. "Look at that. They always make them smaller on the inside. There's hardly room for anything." There was a rattling of coathangers. "Janet must've left these for us. It's just the sort of thing she does — she always thinks ahead. So, do you want to use the bed first or—" 

He turned, and broke off. Rose's clothes — all of them — were already in an untidy heap beside the bed. Rose herself was sitting up in the bed, her hands behind her head and what she hoped was a sultry expression on her face. 

"Why don't you just come in with me?" she asked. 

The Doctor looked slightly puzzled, as if she'd claimed to enjoy walking barefoot through stinging nettles. "Are you sure?" 

"Positive," Rose said firmly. 

"OK. Half a mo." The Doctor extracted a bundle of striped fabric from the wardrobe, and disappeared into what Rose supposed was the bathroom. A few moments later, he returned, clad in a knee-length nightshirt and a cap of similarly antiquated appearance. 

"What..." Rose began, torn between astonishment, disappointment and a strong temptation to laugh her head off. "Are you supposed to be Wee Willie Winkie or something?" 

"I told you Janet thinks of everything. She must've realised we don't have any luggage and had her people leave these for us. Very efficient." He tossed another bundle of fabric at Rose. "These'll be yours." 

"I don't wear anything in bed," Rose replied, in her most seductive tones. "I get hot." 

"Oh, yes, of course." The Doctor snapped his fingers. "Higher body temperature. Well, if you're sure..." 

He climbed into the bed beside Rose. "We'd better get down to some serious sleeping," he said. "Busy day tomorrow." 

"Yeah," Rose said, and switched off the light. She'd hoped that the Doctor might have suggested a busier night. But then, she consoled herself, there were lots of hours between now and tomorrow, and with the two of them together in bed all that time, something was bound to happen. 

Sleep seemed pretty far away, though. She could feel the Doctor's presence in the bed beside her — not exactly cold, but definitely a few degrees below warm. 

She closed her eyes, and tried not to dwell on the thought that this wasn't at all how she'd imagined things would be. 

_Rose was standing at a lectern, on a stage in front of rows of seated people. She recognised the place — it was the assembly hall of her school, though the ceiling seemed to be higher than she remembered, and the corners more shadowed. In the chairs, row after row of people — not schoolchildren, but full-grown adults — robed in purple, orange, red or green, stared back at her. The hall was hushed, expectant._

_Rose took a deep breath and looked down at what she was supposed to be reading. The words writhed across the paper like snakes, refusing to settle before her eyes. She tried to speak, but managed only a dry croak. Her hands seemed glued to the lectern, her feet to the ground._

_"Haven't you forgotten something, young lady?" the Doctor's voice asked. A hand caught her by the shoulder and swung her gently round; she found the Doctor was on the podium, wearing orange robes like those of the audience. "Your clothes, for instance?"_

_He was right, Rose realised. She was standing on the stage, in front of hundreds of people, in her birthday suit. And still unable to move._

_"You must be punished for such a gross breach of standards," the Doctor went on, his voice becoming colder. "Justice will be done, and seen to be done. Do not try to flee, girl."_

_"Rose!" the Doctor's voice shouted. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose caught sight of him, in his familiar brown suit, at the back of the hall. But then her attention was drawn back to the other Doctor, the one looming over her. His hand rose to a zipper on his chest, and pulled it down; from the opening, a green, dragonlike shape began to emerge. Its head had no other features than a mouth, a dark, fetid hole from which purplish tentacles protruded. It swung towards Rose..._

And Rose woke, gasping for breath. 

"Rose?" the Doctor's voice asked. He sounded every bit as shaken and panicky as Rose felt. "Rose, are you OK?" 

"Did I shout?" Rose asked. She tried to wriggle closer to the Doctor, and realised her body was already pressed hard against his. "Sorry. Had a bit of a nightmare." 

"Want to tell me about it?" 

"Might as well," Rose said. "I was back at school, and I was gonna read something out in assembly, only I wasn't wearing any clothes." She felt his body tense beside her, but ploughed on. "And you were there too, except you turned into... I dunno, this big snakey thing." 

"Rose, that was the dream I had," the Doctor said. "Identical. I was at the back of the room. The thing that went for you... that was a Fendahleen." 

"So whose dream was it?" Rose asked. "I mean, was I in your dream, or the other way round?" 

"Bit of both, I reckon," the Doctor said. "I've never seen your school, so all that must've been you. And you've never seen a Fendahleen, so..." 

"Yeah. Got it." Rose shifted her position. "How come we were both in the same dream?" 

"Suppose it was because we were touching." The Doctor tapped his head. "Bit telepathic. We must've been on the same wavelength." 

"Yeah," Rose said with a weak smile. "Look, maybe I should put on one of those nightshirt things. Stop us touching so much." 

"Good idea," the Doctor said, as Rose wriggled into the despised garment. "Maybe that's why you weren't dressed in the dream." 

"Maybe," Rose said. "Anyway, it won't happen now. Right?" 

The Doctor squeezed her hand. "Right." 

Once again, Rose composed herself for sleep. 

_They were in Rose's flat, sitting side by side on the sofa while Jackie bent over the table pouring out tea._

_"Are you OK?" the Doctor whispered. "This can't be easy for you."_

_"I said I'd tell her," Rose whispered back. "I promised."_

_The Doctor gave her hand an encouraging squeeze._

_"Mum," Rose began. It was an effort to talk, as if her mouth had been stuffed with cotton wool._

_"What is it, sweetheart?" Jackie asked, not looking up._

_"The Doctor and me... we're gonna... Mum, I'm having a baby."_

_Rose had expected her mother to hit the roof, but Jackie didn't even seem to notice. She placidly fished a teabag out of its cup, without so much as a tremor._

_"Thing is," Rose ploughed doggedly on, "he says it's not quite the same when it's a Time Lord baby. There's these special capsules to give it the right nutrients... Mum, can you hear me?"_

_"I can hear you fine, love." Jackie still didn't look up. "Don't do it, Rose."_

_"It's safe," Rose said. "He promised..."_

_Her voice died away as her mother, finally, turned to face her. Except it wasn't Jackie at all. On a shapely, bikini-clad female body was set a dark, saturnine, bearded head, glancing between them with a look of amusement._

_"The Doctor will implant a larva in your body," he — if it was a he — said. "It will embed itself in your central nervous system, controlling all vital functions. Later, of course, it will eat its way out through your chest." He held out a cup to Rose. "Would you care for some tea?"_

_"You shouldn't be here!" the Doctor protested. "And what do you think you're wearing?"_

_The apparition smirked. "You know very well that I always dress for the occasion."_

Rose sat bolt upright in the bed, trying to shake off sensations of nausea. 

"What was _that_?" she asked, out loud. 

"What was what?" the Doctor asked, sounding guilty. 

"That dream. My mum turning into some bloke with a beard." Rose prodded the Doctor firmly. "Don't tell me you didn't have it, too." 

"Well... Might have done. More or less." 

Rose shuddered. "It was horrible. Every time I see Mum, that's what I'll think of, now." 

"Do you want to forget it?" the Doctor asked. 

"I'll try," Rose said firmly. 

"No, I mean really forget it. You never even know it was there. Gone from your mind forever." 

"Can you _do_ that?" 

"When we get back to the TARDIS. I've got all the equipment. Just hook you up to the telepathic circuits and we can scrub out whatever you like." 

"Sounds risky," Rose said. "What happens if you get rid of more than you meant?" 

"Oh, there's no chance of that. Well, not much of a chance. Well, better than fifty-fifty, anyway..." 

"I get the picture." Rose lay back, looking up at the ceiling. "I'd never do something like that." 

There was a long silence, in which dark suspicions unfolded themselves in Rose's mind. 

"Hang on," she said sharply. "If I had done it already I wouldn't remember it, would I? Doctor, have I had my mind — what was it you said — scrubbed?" 

The Doctor took her hand. "Of course not, Rose." 

"Yeah, but maybe you're just saying that to make me feel better." Rose gently disengaged her hand from the Doctor's. "I don't think we should be touching. Not if it gives us dreams like that one." 

"Maybe," the Doctor said. "Want to try that thing with the pillows?" 

A few minutes later, Rose, now with a couple of pillows between her and the Doctor, was once more trying to sleep. 

_Rose was standing alone, beneath an orange sky. A hot, dry wind blew in her face, bearing a sweet, faintly nauseating aroma. A white plain, flat and featureless, stretched to the horizon. The ground beneath her feet was lumpy and unyielding._

_She looked down, and realised she was standing on bones. The whole plain was made of bones, from skulls all the way down to the smallest fingers and toes. Without looking, she knew that if she were to try digging, no matter how far down she dug, all she would find would be more bones._

_She knelt down, and picked up a skull._

_"What happened?" she whispered. "Who did this?"_

_"Who d'you think?" the skull replied._

_Its voice was the Doctor's._

Rose spent the rest of the night in the lifepod, after all.


End file.
